


A Brief Interlude

by naive_wanderer



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Gen, Phoenix Wright Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-26
Updated: 2008-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-20 02:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/207968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naive_wanderer/pseuds/naive_wanderer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Game 3) After falling off Dusky Bridge, Phoenix tries to set things right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Brief Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the kink meme prompt asking for: "a novelization of 3-5, where Phoenix falls off the bridge, and if you feel up to it, Miles visiting Phoenix at the hospital."

Phoenix was not having a good day.

It was taking a while to remember every single event of the day as he slowly regained consciousness, but even with his scattered and half-formed memories he could conclude that it had been Bad. A cold mountain, physical discomfort; Sister Iris and the vaguely sickening but intriguing feelings she stirred in his chest; murder (granted, this was not something unusual, given his profession); a jolt of panic, terror, _Maya's on the other side, what if she –_ a burning bridge, the horrifying _crack_ of the snapping rope and falling down, down, down; water that felt like concrete against his body, so cold his first sensation was of fire…

And now he was here, lying in a hospital bed because of his foolishness, body aching with bruises and weak with fever, hot and cold and trembling and unable to focus with eyes or mind. The worry didn't leave him, even in sleep (not that he wanted to sleep); _Maya's still out there, the bridge is broken, it's cold, I could have been killed and what good would that have done her you fucking idiot, what if there was more than one murder and I don't even know, how could Iris have…_

 _Iris has to be innocent_.

The thoughts circled in his mind, over and over again. It was all connected. He needed to get well, he needed to investigate, he needed to defend Iris, he needed to find Maya. His recovery seemed agonizingly slow; he questioned the doctors or the nurses whenever he was conscious to see them, and they only smiled at him in an infuriating display of comfort. "It's only been a few hours," they told him each time, and each time Phoenix thought, _Only a few hours?_ Surely, with the number of times he'd slept and awoken, it had been days! "You're beaten up. You were hypothermic. You're sick. If you rest it should be gone in a few days." A few days! A few more days! What could happen in that time…!

"I'm good," he tried to tell them when he felt well enough to speak, early enough in the morning that sunlight hadn't yet begun to peek through his window. "I feel much better. I'm sure I can go." In reality his head felt like it had collided with a bag full of rocks and then, for good measure, been smashed against a sledgehammer just above his left eye. The rest of his limbs felt much the same, and when he moved his whole body trembled with the effort. He was terrible at convincing them. They gave him drugs in an IV that connected straight to his arm and told him to go back to sleep.

So now all he could do was lie in his hospital bed, vaguely running over the events of his Bad Day before unconsciousness took him again. They had laid out the possessions he'd brought with him to Hazakura temple on the bedside table, which he sometimes ran through his hands as though some brilliant idea would appear just by the touch: his badge, the magatama, Iris' hood, that magazine with the promotional image Maya had given him, his toothbrush. _As if I'm going to use that damn toothbrush_ , Phoenix thought when he'd first seen it; _as if I'm even awake long enough at this point to have time to brush my teeth…_

He was losing track of time. It felt like only a moment ago he had fallen from Dusky Bridge, but the next moment he could swear it had been days. The clock on the far wall (when he could focus enough to see it) surprised him every time. 2am, the first time he'd regained consciousness; the murder had happened only three hours ago. 2:45am. 3:17am. 5:24am, try to convince the staff of wellness. 6:03am…

"Wright?"

Phoenix opened his eyes. 9:13am. Miles Edgeworth was standing near the foot of his bed, tired and pale. Phoenix could barely muster up the strength to wonder why this was unusual. Edgeworth exhaled slowly through his teeth.

"Larry… made it sound as though you were near death. I flew in… it took me ten hours…"

 _That's right,_ thought Phoenix. _He was in Europe._

Something in Phoenix's chest twisted at the idea that Miles had flown ten hours on a whim just to make sure he was all right. He meant to say something along the lines of 'sorry for the trouble' or 'thank you for coming,' but what came out instead, his voice unsurprisingly faint and hoarse, was, "Edgeworth, could you come over here?"

The prosecutor looked startled for a moment before hesitantly moving to the side of Phoenix's bed, his eyes carefully scanning Phoenix's body as though the defense attorney might actually die at any moment. Phoenix's hand felt sluggish and far too heavy as he reached across to the bedside table to grab what he needed, his mind turning frantically with a new and sudden burst of anxiety and realization. Miles was here. Miles could help. He grabbed everything but the toothbrush, which clattered to the floor as his hand trembled. God, but he was pathetically weak.

Edgeworth started as Phoenix thrust the items into his hands. "Wright," he said, voice weighty with fatigue, "what is this?"

"Evidence," mumbled Phoenix, feeling the heavy hands of drug- and fever-induced sleep beginning to drag him down once more. "And my attorney's badge." Iris's hood slipped from Edgeworth's apparently shocked hands.

"All right," Miles said slowly, carefully, a look of thinly veiled horror plastered across his already ashen face, "clearly you're not in your right mind right now -"

"No," interrupted Phoenix with a shake of his head, reaching down to grab the hood that had fallen onto his knee. "I mean, yes. I mean – look, Edgeworth." Phoenix awkwardly pulled the hood over his head, mumbling a quick "this is how you wear it" before he pulled it off again to avoid Edgeworth's stare (and the little panicked voice in the back of his mind that told him to keep wearing it lest more tragedy occur).

"And what is that supposed to be for?" Edgeworth questioned, sounding very much like he was just humoring someone delusional with fever. Which, Phoenix supposed, he kind of was, but Phoenix couldn't work up the strength to be annoyed over it; this was too important.

"To ward off evil…." Phoenix told him distractedly, stuffing the hood back into Edgeworth's hands and searching with clumsy fingers for the magatama. It was an insanely difficult task just to keep his head up at this point, but this needed to be explained.

Miles only barely contained his sigh as Phoenix held up the magatama for viewing. "And what is that?"

"It breaks psyche-locks," Phoenix explained, dropping it back down into Edgeworth's hands and giving it a good pat for safety. Maya and Pearls would kill him if that thing was ever lost, but he really had no choice…

"Psycholocks?" Edgeworth attempted to repeat, brow furrowing. "What are 'psycholocks?'"

"Psyche-locks," Phoenix corrected, fighting to keep his eyes from closing. "When someone is lying… the magatama helps you see the locks… and then you can break them with evidence…"

"Wright, listen," Edgeworth started for what seemed like the millionth time, his tone softened into the voice one might use when speaking to someone in extreme shock. He curled one hand around Phoenix's offered evidence and used the other as leverage against the bed stand. "Larry explained to me what happened, and I understand your worry, but quite frankly you look like death right now and I don't believe you're thinking coherently. You can't honestly think… I mean, surely this thing doesn't… _psycholocks?_ "

"They actually look like big red locks," Phoenix plowed on stubbornly, determined to explain everything before that damnable sleep overtook him again – whether or not Miles wanted to hear. "There are chains too. You'll know."

Edgeworth stared at him openmouthed for a few moments before shaking his head in apparent defeat, shoulders slumping. "And why do you think it's a good idea to give me your badge?" he questioned lowly. "What exactly do you want me to do, Phoenix? I'm only here because for one ridiculous moment I thought you might be dead."

There was that twisting in Phoenix's chest again. He tried to keep his mind focused, to stay conscious. "I need you to defend Iris," he murmured, looking into Edgeworth's eyes as best he could.

" _Defend - !_ " Edgeworth sputtered, nearly dropping the items in his hand. Phoenix tried not to flinch. "Wright, I'm a _prosecuting attorney_. What on earth would make you think I should defend this girl? Don't you think any reasonable court would notice my suddenly switching sides for a case?"

" _Please,_ " mumbled Phoenix, trying to get his thoughts in order. A wave of heat had overcome him and he suddenly felt suffocated by the blankets and the air around him and Edgeworth's stare. " _Please,_ Edgeworth. No one else will do it. It's only until I'm well enough to be let out of here – "

"Which, if your delusional raving is any indication of your health, won't be for several weeks!" Edgeworth interrupted heatedly. There was a distinct note of fear in both his voice and his eyes. "Wright, I _cannot_ be this woman's _defense_ attorney."

Phoenix fell silent for a moment, closing his eyes in an attempt to sort out the ideas in his overheated brain. He'd begun to drift, forgetting his vow to stay awake, until Edgeworth's voice pierced his awareness once more.

"Wright?"

Phoenix blinked himself back to full consciousness, hit with a brief moment of clarity. "Edgeworth, please," he plead again, and the prosecutor in question sighed. "I know this girl. She needs to be defended. Just, I – I need to get Maya out and to do that – to figure it all out, and – Iris needs to be defended." He pressed his palms against his eyes, the effort of speaking coherently suddenly overwhelming. "Just, you – you don't even _have_ to do it, if you really can't, but I can't leave here, so, just _take_ the badge and, and at least _talk_ to her at the detention center."

Silence reigned for several long seconds. "All right," Edgeworth said at last, sounding worn. Phoenix took his hands away from his face and tried to look as appreciative as he felt. "I'll take a look, Wright, since I've already flown all the way here for nothing."

A rush of gratitude and that same unnamable emotion bubbled up in Phoenix's chest. "Thanks, Edgeworth," he murmured, feeling sleep finally start to overcome him. "You're a good friend."

Edgeworth just stared at him, hard enough that after a moment he didn't seem to be focusing on anything at all. "No, I'm not," were the last words Phoenix heard, mind already too far gone to wrap around them.


End file.
